After a recent meal at Silk Road, Camberwell, I resolved to try cooking the aubergine dish I loved so much at home. Unfortunately, googling 'homestyle aubergines' threw up nothing. Frustratingly, it seems like a name the restaurant gave to the dish themselves. I improvised, adopting some of the methods they used, such as peeling the aubergine, instead.
Handily enough, I had enough leftover red soy sauce from these noodles, so this was to be the basis of the dish. Peeled and then fried and braised, the aubergines took on a pleasantly silky texture just as they had done at the restaurant. I replaced the peppers in the original dish with some broccoli and celery I had hanging around, which I think I prefered. The broccoli florets soaked up the sauce nicely and had a good texture constrast with their grassy crunch.
Chinese Red Braised Aubergine
Serves 2 as a side
2 small aubergines
3 cloves of garlic
1" of ginger
4 tbsp red soy sauce (recipe is on Josh's blog)
2 stalks of spring onion
1/2 a head of broccoli
2 stalks of celery
1/2 tbsp cornflour, slaked
200ml water or stock
Peel the aubergine and slice it into rounds. Finely mince the garlic and ginger, destring the celery stalks and slice diagonally. Separate the broccoli into florets. Slice the spring onion diagonally and set to one side.
Heat 2 tbsp oil in a wok. Add the aubergine rounds and fry until browned on each side. Remove from the pan, add a dribble more oil and heat until almost smoking. Add the celery and stir-fry for 2 or 3 minutes and add the ginger and garlic. Fry until fragrant, get the aubergine back in there. Stir fry for a few minutes and add the red soy sauce. Stir until it's all coated, slosh in the water and simmer for 10 - 15 minutes, adding more water if it's looking dry. Add the broccoli and simmer for a further 10 minutes or until tender.
Finally, add the cornflour and simmer until thickened and glossy. Take off the heat, garnish with the spring onion and serve with rice.
Selasa, 30 Maret 2010
Senin, 29 Maret 2010
A Sort-Of Béarnaise Sauce
I've had a steak craving for quite some time. Normally I'd satisfy this craving with a trip to Hawksmoor but I recently bought a ticket to Nicaragua to see a friend and have since been on a budgetary lock down. But no matter; off I trotted to the butcher to get my hands on a juicy rib-eye. Charred on a super-hot griddle, the only accompaniment I could think of making was Béarnaise. Or should it be anchovy butter? I couldn't decide, so I combined the two. Anchovies might seem a weird option, but they go incredibly well with beef. It's a rich sauce, scented and lightened with tarragon and lemon.
Triple-cooked chips, made with this recipe (which, by the way, were amazing - I can't believe I haven't made them before), completed the holy trinity of a heart attack on a plate and stank my flat out for hours.
Béarnaise Sauce with Anchovy
Makes enough for two greedy girls
4 anchovy fillets
2 egg yolks
120gr unsalted butter
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 heaped tbsp tarragon
1.5 tbsp white wine vinegar
2 tbsp vermouth
2 shallots
In a small pan, heat the butter, add the anchovies chopped finely and cook until foaming. Take off the heat and skim the white impurities that are at the surface to clarify it. Chop the shallots and the tarragon finely. In a small saucepan add the shallots and 1tbsp of the tarragon. Add the vinegar, vermouth and 2 tbsp of water and simmer until the liquid has reduced to half. Season liberally.
Whisk the egg yolks and add to the shallot mixture. Heat slowly, whisking as you go until the sauce has thickened and emulsified. Don't allow to boil. Take off the heat and whisk the butter into it, whisking all the while and incorporating the butter before you add any more. Push the sauce through a sieve, then add the rest of the tarragon and the lemon juice. Keep warm with a foil lid in a very low oven until serving.
Triple-cooked chips, made with this recipe (which, by the way, were amazing - I can't believe I haven't made them before), completed the holy trinity of a heart attack on a plate and stank my flat out for hours.
Béarnaise Sauce with Anchovy
Makes enough for two greedy girls
4 anchovy fillets
2 egg yolks
120gr unsalted butter
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 heaped tbsp tarragon
1.5 tbsp white wine vinegar
2 tbsp vermouth
2 shallots
In a small pan, heat the butter, add the anchovies chopped finely and cook until foaming. Take off the heat and skim the white impurities that are at the surface to clarify it. Chop the shallots and the tarragon finely. In a small saucepan add the shallots and 1tbsp of the tarragon. Add the vinegar, vermouth and 2 tbsp of water and simmer until the liquid has reduced to half. Season liberally.
Whisk the egg yolks and add to the shallot mixture. Heat slowly, whisking as you go until the sauce has thickened and emulsified. Don't allow to boil. Take off the heat and whisk the butter into it, whisking all the while and incorporating the butter before you add any more. Push the sauce through a sieve, then add the rest of the tarragon and the lemon juice. Keep warm with a foil lid in a very low oven until serving.
Kamis, 25 Maret 2010
Lemon Pound Cake with Lemon Icing
Lemon, lemon, lemon, how I love, love, love thee. This blog was almost called Chocolate Shavings and Lemon Zest, but in an effort to contain my sometimes all-over-the-place thoughts, I opted for concise! I can never get over how zesting a little lemon into a dessert makes all the difference in the end result or how squeezing a couple squirts of lemon juice right before serving a pasta dish brings it to a whole new level. Have you ever tried zesting a touch of lemon over a spinach and toasted almond salad with a lemon/olive oil vinaigrette? If not, give it a try next time you want to make a simple salad special and let me know how it goes!
Citrus desserts are really a wonderful way to welcome spring, and, even though it snowed here yesterday, I've decided that this kitchen will be spring-y whether it wants to or not! This lemon pound cake was light and packed with flavor but the icing was my favorite part. (Then again, isn't icing ALWAYS the best part? - for those of us who will eternally be children it definitely always is). This icing contains a little touch of heavy cream which makes it wonderfully thick and glossy and coats the pound cake to perfection. Have you ever made a simple glaze to top a cake and love the taste but wish that it would be more visible and thick over the dessert? A little cream really is the answer to that!
In terms of recent food news, I attended the launch of Food Network Canada's newest show Bitchin' Kitchen. You can check out my account of the night on Food Network's website in a couple days, but for now, all I can say is that Food Network is going to be shaken and changed with this new concept! I'm also headed to Martin Picard's Cabane a Sucre this weekend so there will be a lot of good eating and maple-syrup coming my way. I will keep you posted!
Lemon Pound Cake (adapted from Martha Stewart)
Serves 4-6
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened, plus more for pan
3/4 cup of granulated sugar, plus more for dusting
1 cup of all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, plus finely grated zest of 2 lemons
1/4 cup milk
2 large eggs
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9-by-5-inch loaf pan. Dust with sugar, and tap out excess; set aside. Whisk together flour, salt, and baking soda. Stir together the lemon juice and the milk.
Put butter and 3/4 cup sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix until pale and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Mix in eggs and zest. Working in two batches, alternate mixing in flour mixture and milk mixture. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake until a cake tester comes out clean, about 35 minutes.
Tip: The milk will look curdled when you add the lemon juice but don't worry, it won't affect the final result!
Drippy Icing
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon of confectioners' sugar
1/4 cup of heavy cream
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
Whisk all ingredients in a small bowl until smooth. Pour through a sieve into another bowl. Use immediately.
Selasa, 23 Maret 2010
Pear, Maple & Walnut Cake
I'm a bit of a picky one when it comes to cake. I love cakes made with fruit and yet I don't like fruitcake. Pears are a particular favourite of mine, so when I saw this recipe, it jumped straight to the top of the 'must make' list.
I made a few tweaks to the recipe to include Cognac (which always improves things) and maple. Finally, slowly but surely, that kilo of maple sugar is being put to good use. The pears ensure there is no dryness to the cake with the maple giving it an almost caramel flavour. Sweet, dense and with the occasional lump of walnut, this made an excellent accompaniment to the biggest mug of tea I could find.
Pear, Maple & Walnut Cake
350gr plain flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
3 eggs
175gr maple sugar (double this if you're using normal sugar as maple sugar is twice as sweet)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 large pears (I used Comte)
160gr butter, softened
2 small handfuls of walnuts, chopped
1 tbsp icing sugar
A splash of Cognac or brandy
Preheat your oven to 175 degrees C. Grease a 9" springform cake tin.
Mix together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, and bicarbonate of soda in a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped walnuts and then add the sugar, butter, Cognac, vanilla extract and eggs to the flour mixture.
I made a few tweaks to the recipe to include Cognac (which always improves things) and maple. Finally, slowly but surely, that kilo of maple sugar is being put to good use. The pears ensure there is no dryness to the cake with the maple giving it an almost caramel flavour. Sweet, dense and with the occasional lump of walnut, this made an excellent accompaniment to the biggest mug of tea I could find.
Pear, Maple & Walnut Cake
350gr plain flour
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
3 eggs
175gr maple sugar (double this if you're using normal sugar as maple sugar is twice as sweet)
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground cinnamon
2 large pears (I used Comte)
160gr butter, softened
2 small handfuls of walnuts, chopped
1 tbsp icing sugar
A splash of Cognac or brandy
Preheat your oven to 175 degrees C. Grease a 9" springform cake tin.
Mix together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder, salt, and bicarbonate of soda in a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped walnuts and then add the sugar, butter, Cognac, vanilla extract and eggs to the flour mixture.
Peel the pears and grate them. Mix thoroughly through the cake mixture so that it becomes batter and then pour into your greased cake tin and place in the oven. Bake for 1 hour - 1 hour 10 mins - it should be browned on top and a skewer inserted should come out clean.
Cool the cake in the pan for about 20 minutes. Then turn it out onto a wire rack to cool completely. Dust it with icing sugar.
Minggu, 21 Maret 2010
Hand-Made Noodles
At our trip to Silk Road in Camberwell, I fell in love with the rustic, rough-and-ready style of their 'belt noodles'. Chewy and elastic, I vowed to make some of my own. This coincided quite nicely with my friend Josh, one of the first online friends I met four years ago, raving about the Tian Shui Mian he'd had in China and subsequently managed to recreate. If you don't follow his blog, you really should.
Making noodles in this style is substantially easier than rolling out pasta. The noodles themselves were simplicity itself, comprising of only four ingredients and I wanted a dressing for them that would enhance them best. Josh's recipe made a sauce that was salty, sweet, spicy and with a hint of roasted sesame. They were addictive, having just the right amount satisfying chew and they carried the sauce well. It was messy business; I maimed myself with a rogue flick of the noodle as I shovelled them in hungrily and an unfortunate spicy globule landed in my eye. I cried into my noodles a bit, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment of them.
Hand-made Noodles
Serves 2
100gr plain flour
100gr bread flour
50gr water
A large pinch of salt
Mix the flours together, add the salt and the water. Mix well and leave for 30 minutes. Knead the dough until smooth, oil it and roll out to as thin as you can be bothered. Cut into strips about the width of your index finger. Dust with flour.
Bring a large pan of water to the boil and drop the noodles in. Simmer for a couple of minutes - when they are done they should float to the surface. Drain well and toss through the sauce (mind your eyes...) - recipe here. If you have any leftover, toss with a little oil so that they don't stick and freeze. They cook well from frozen, dropped briefly in boiling water.
Making noodles in this style is substantially easier than rolling out pasta. The noodles themselves were simplicity itself, comprising of only four ingredients and I wanted a dressing for them that would enhance them best. Josh's recipe made a sauce that was salty, sweet, spicy and with a hint of roasted sesame. They were addictive, having just the right amount satisfying chew and they carried the sauce well. It was messy business; I maimed myself with a rogue flick of the noodle as I shovelled them in hungrily and an unfortunate spicy globule landed in my eye. I cried into my noodles a bit, but it didn't detract from my enjoyment of them.
Hand-made Noodles
Serves 2
100gr plain flour
100gr bread flour
50gr water
A large pinch of salt
Mix the flours together, add the salt and the water. Mix well and leave for 30 minutes. Knead the dough until smooth, oil it and roll out to as thin as you can be bothered. Cut into strips about the width of your index finger. Dust with flour.
Bring a large pan of water to the boil and drop the noodles in. Simmer for a couple of minutes - when they are done they should float to the surface. Drain well and toss through the sauce (mind your eyes...) - recipe here. If you have any leftover, toss with a little oil so that they don't stick and freeze. They cook well from frozen, dropped briefly in boiling water.
Kamis, 18 Maret 2010
Roasted Cauliflower
My last few posts have been on the sweet side: after Lemon Cupcakes with Chocolate Icing, Chocolate Fondants with Salted Caramel Sauce and Tiramisu, I thought it might be time to present you with something to eat before all of those treats! This roasted cauliflower recipe is not mine, nor was it made by me but I just had to post it. Mr. O has been cooking wonderful little snacks for me to have around the house while I've been working on a few projects. Although I work around the realm of food, somedays I am just writing away and don't have as much time as I'd want to frolic in the kitchen and try new things. I opened the fridge a couple days ago and this wonderful batch of roasted cauliflower was just calling my name. It's a wonderfully healthy and satisfying way to enjoy cauliflower - a vegetable that I haven't been using nearly as much as I should. It also makes a wonderful side dish to a nicely pan-seared piece of fish and works beautifully to top a simple citrus and nut salad.
It really has been a busy couple weeks in this household! Between hosting the Daring Bakers (I can't wait to see everyone's results!), an ever-increasing amount of submissions to go through on Tastespotting, a few exciting food projects in the works, some recipe development, photo shoots and some night classes to attend..as well as a small move to London (for a month in the summer for an exciting food project I can't reveal right away) there hasn't been enough hours in the day. If you live in London and have some suggestions for good food spots, local markets, specialty stores or any cool local activities, I'm all ears!
Roasted Cauliflower:
2 heads of cauliflower
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 tablespoon of whole coriander seeds
2 teaspoons of cumin seeds
2 teaspoons of black mustard seeds
1/4 cup of powdered almonds
Boil a large pot of water and add a generous quantity of salt. Heat your oven to 450 degrees farenheit. Using a frying pan without oil, dry-fry the spices for 1-2minutes, add them to a grinder and grind to a powder. Meanwhile, cut the cauliflower in half, and then into florets. Add them to the water for 5-6 minutes, and drain. Spread the cauliflower out onto a baking sheet, and allow to airdry for several hours. Alternately, dry in a 100-200 degree oven for 10 minutes or so. In a big bowl, mix the cauliflower with the spices and pour the oil and powdered almonds.
Bake in the oven for 45-50 minutes until it becomes nicely golden brown and even crispy.
Selasa, 16 Maret 2010
Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream
I'm not usually the type to go completely mental over ice cream. It's one of those things I can take or leave; maybe a Cornetto by the seaside is quite nice, but not essential. However, this all changed recently. I visited Browns of Brockley, a deli a short walk away from my flat and bought some apple crumble ice cream. After a cursory taste of this, I was raving about it to anyone that would listen, gazing at me with bored eyes until they tasted it themselves.
A couple of weeks later, I glimpsed this recipe. Salted butter caramel ice cream. Salted. Butter. Caramel. I bought an ice cream maker especially to try it.
For the ice cream:
Caramelise the rest of the sugar as above. Once caramelised, remove from the heat and stir in the butter and the salt. When the butter has melted whisk in the cream. At this point, it seized into an unholy mess. If this happens to you, heat gently until it all melts back down. It takes a while. Stir in the rest of the milk and take off the heat.
Before placing in the freezer, bash up the praline roughly. Stir this through the ice cream, decant into a container and place in the freezer. These caramel bits will liquify a little.
A couple of weeks later, I glimpsed this recipe. Salted butter caramel ice cream. Salted. Butter. Caramel. I bought an ice cream maker especially to try it.
The recipe is a total, utter ballache which I am sure is my fault and not of the recipe's. The caramel seized and I spent a good hour, if not more, stirring it, melting it back down. In total, it may have taken me 3 or so hours to make, but after one bite of my efforts I didn't care. It is amazing.
I replaced some of the sugar with maple sugar and salt with smoked, which gave a good dimension of flavour to it. If you haven't got any, use the recipe linked above. Be warned - melting sugar is not for the faint hearted. If it burns you, it HURTS.
Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream
Makes 1 litre - you will eat it all
For the caramel praline:
50gr sugar
25gr maple sugar3/4 tsp smoked salt (I used Halen Mon)
For the ice cream:
500ml milk, split in two
200gr sugar50gr maple sugar
60gr butter1/2 tsp smoked salt
250ml double cream, warmed5 egg yolks
3/4 tsp vanilla extractLine a baking tray with greaseproof paper. In a pan, melt the sugar for the praline, stirring occasionally to melt all the granules. Cook until it is mostly liquid and the caramel starts smoking a bit. As it's just about to burn, take off the heat, whack in the salt immediately and then pour the caramel on to the baking sheet. Wiggle it around a bit to try and get the thinnest sheet of caramel as possible. Set aside to harden.
Fill a big bowl to halfway with ice and a little water, and nestle a smaller bowl within. Pour 1 portion of the milk into the bowl and set a fine seive on top.
Caramelise the rest of the sugar as above. Once caramelised, remove from the heat and stir in the butter and the salt. When the butter has melted whisk in the cream. At this point, it seized into an unholy mess. If this happens to you, heat gently until it all melts back down. It takes a while. Stir in the rest of the milk and take off the heat.
Whisk the egg yolks in a bowl and gradually pour the warm cream mixture, stirring as you go. Scrape this all back into the saucepan and heat and stir to around 70 degrees C, so just before it boils. It should thicken slightly. Pour the custard through the strainer onto the iced milk and stir to combine and to cool it down. Place this in fridge and chill until the mixture is fridge cold. Churn in your ice cream maker.
Before placing in the freezer, bash up the praline roughly. Stir this through the ice cream, decant into a container and place in the freezer. These caramel bits will liquify a little.
The end result is gorgeously creamy, sweet buttery ice cream with a little hint of salt. You'd be silly not to try it.
Minggu, 14 Maret 2010
Oxtail Ragu & Parmesan Polenta
I recently had a dish with polenta in and it was so good I couldn't stop thinking about it. It was creamy and comforting and I was kicking myself for not having discovered it earlier. Typically Italian, it is made from cornmeal and is known for being 'peasant food'. Perfect for me then. It's a very bland base, so it needed something rich and meaty to flavour each mouthful.
The oxtail was braised ever so slowly for four hours. Thankfully for my sanity I left my housemate to babysit the simmering pot as the flat filled up with the tantalising smells. Once cooled, the meat was taken off the bone - or, rather, ripped apart with my hands, flinging my kitchen in oxtail sauce - for a further simmer in a reduced sauce before being plonked atop some herby, cheesy polenta. It may be termed as peasant food, but I was richly awarded.
Oxtail Ragu
Serves 3
1 whole oxtail, jointed
2 small white onions
2 sticks of celery
2 carrots
2 sprigs of rosemary
3 fat cloves of garlic
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp tomato puree
Chicken stock
1 large glass of red wine
Brown the oxtail in a frying pan. Meanwhile, dice the onion, celery and carrot and fry in a large saucepan. Roughly chop the garlic and add them in. Once browned, add the oxtail and top with chicken stock to cover. Add the bay leaf, rosemary and tomato puree. Simmer for 4 hours, stirring occasionally. Leave to cool (or overnight), pour off the fat and remove the meat from the bones. Sieve the remaining mixture, pushing the vegetables into a mush. Heat this up, add the wine and simmer for a couple of minutes before adding the meat back in, adding a little water if needed. Simmer this for half an hour before serving.
Parmesan Polenta
Serves 3
100gr coarse cornmeal
1 handful of grated Parmesan
1 handful of chopped flatleaf parsley
10gr butter
Salt & pepper
500ml vegetable stock
Bring the stock to the boil and using a balloon whisk, add the cornmeal to the stock stirring all the time. Turn the heat down low and cook, stirring constantly, for 10 - 15 minutes. If it's looking little dry, add some water to it; I like it a little runny, like a honey-like consistency. It should have lost it's graininess by this point, but if not it may need a little more cooking and stirring. Take off the heat, throw in the butter, stir the finely chopped parsley through it and add the Parmesan. Stir to combine, season with salt and pepper and serve.
Any leftover polenta can be spread on a baking sheet to cool which you can then slice and fry.
The oxtail was braised ever so slowly for four hours. Thankfully for my sanity I left my housemate to babysit the simmering pot as the flat filled up with the tantalising smells. Once cooled, the meat was taken off the bone - or, rather, ripped apart with my hands, flinging my kitchen in oxtail sauce - for a further simmer in a reduced sauce before being plonked atop some herby, cheesy polenta. It may be termed as peasant food, but I was richly awarded.
Oxtail Ragu
Serves 3
1 whole oxtail, jointed
2 small white onions
2 sticks of celery
2 carrots
2 sprigs of rosemary
3 fat cloves of garlic
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp tomato puree
Chicken stock
1 large glass of red wine
Brown the oxtail in a frying pan. Meanwhile, dice the onion, celery and carrot and fry in a large saucepan. Roughly chop the garlic and add them in. Once browned, add the oxtail and top with chicken stock to cover. Add the bay leaf, rosemary and tomato puree. Simmer for 4 hours, stirring occasionally. Leave to cool (or overnight), pour off the fat and remove the meat from the bones. Sieve the remaining mixture, pushing the vegetables into a mush. Heat this up, add the wine and simmer for a couple of minutes before adding the meat back in, adding a little water if needed. Simmer this for half an hour before serving.
Parmesan Polenta
Serves 3
100gr coarse cornmeal
1 handful of grated Parmesan
1 handful of chopped flatleaf parsley
10gr butter
Salt & pepper
500ml vegetable stock
Bring the stock to the boil and using a balloon whisk, add the cornmeal to the stock stirring all the time. Turn the heat down low and cook, stirring constantly, for 10 - 15 minutes. If it's looking little dry, add some water to it; I like it a little runny, like a honey-like consistency. It should have lost it's graininess by this point, but if not it may need a little more cooking and stirring. Take off the heat, throw in the butter, stir the finely chopped parsley through it and add the Parmesan. Stir to combine, season with salt and pepper and serve.
Any leftover polenta can be spread on a baking sheet to cool which you can then slice and fry.
Rabu, 10 Maret 2010
Silk Road, Camberwell
Say what you like about Twitter; there's no denying it brings people together. Last year, one summer's (remember that season?) evening I was on the tube, on the way to a friend's house. A girl sat next to me and whispered "Hollow Legs, right? I'm Jess". I looked at her with wide-eyed alarm and edged away until I recognised her as someone I'd had online conversations with. We had a little giggle. A few months later, she mentioned she was moving house - my friends were looking for a new housemate - I put the two in touch and now they live together.
Anyway, as a 'welcome to South East London' for Jess, a few of us locals got together to visit Silk Road, a North Western Chinese restaurant in Camberwell. More of a cafe than a restaurant, we were seated on hard cold benches, an Arctic draft billowing through the place every time the door opened. Jumpers stayed on as we perused the menu.
A variety of boiled dumplings were on offer. Beef and onion dumplings were reminiscient of the pie variety, while pork dumplings were liberally laced with spring onion. Juices burst forth from the soft wrappers which had just the right amount of chew.
Cold dishes were made up of sliced ox tripe and shredded kelp, both in a garlicky, chilli dressing. Textures over flavours dominated here; the kelp was ever-so-slimy, the tripe bouncy.
Cumin-dusted lamb skewers were devoured at speed. Each nugget of meat is surrounded by a chunk of flabby in places, sometimes crispy, flavoursome lamb fat which as we all know has a tendency to be utterly foul when cold.
I am nothing if not predictable, and I demanded we order the 'homestyle aubergine'. I didn't come up against any resistance. Unsurprisingly this was perhaps my favourite dish of the night. Chunks of aubergine which I imagine were steamed and then peeled soaked up the flavour of the slightly sweetened mild sheen of a sauce, with added crunch from green pepper.
Billed as 'middle plate chicken' on the menu, we originally wanted to go for the big plate but were wisely warned off it by a second-timer. An enormous boat of a bowl emerged from the kitchen with the heady scent of star anise wafting after it. Lumps of chicken fell off the bone into the spiced broth. When we had fished out all the chunks of potato and chicken we could find, a plate of hand made 'belt noodles' were plonked in the bowl. Slippery, chewy, hugely satisfying and deliciously messy, I was rather surprised to find my clothes weren't splattered.
The final dish, though good, was my least favourite. Shreds of pork, carrot and more of that kelp bathed in a slightly gloopy sauce. It tasted like a very rustic version of sweet and sour, thankfully without any scary Day-Glo orange. Perhaps I was reaching full capacity at this point, though that's not to say it didn't get finished.
The meal, washed down with around 4 Tsing Taos each and complete with service, came to a mere £13 each. I felt like we were robbing them. I will be back.
Silk Road
49 Camberwell Church Street
London SE5 8TR
Tel: 020 7703 4832
Anyway, as a 'welcome to South East London' for Jess, a few of us locals got together to visit Silk Road, a North Western Chinese restaurant in Camberwell. More of a cafe than a restaurant, we were seated on hard cold benches, an Arctic draft billowing through the place every time the door opened. Jumpers stayed on as we perused the menu.
A variety of boiled dumplings were on offer. Beef and onion dumplings were reminiscient of the pie variety, while pork dumplings were liberally laced with spring onion. Juices burst forth from the soft wrappers which had just the right amount of chew.
Cold dishes were made up of sliced ox tripe and shredded kelp, both in a garlicky, chilli dressing. Textures over flavours dominated here; the kelp was ever-so-slimy, the tripe bouncy.
Cumin-dusted lamb skewers were devoured at speed. Each nugget of meat is surrounded by a chunk of flabby in places, sometimes crispy, flavoursome lamb fat which as we all know has a tendency to be utterly foul when cold.
I am nothing if not predictable, and I demanded we order the 'homestyle aubergine'. I didn't come up against any resistance. Unsurprisingly this was perhaps my favourite dish of the night. Chunks of aubergine which I imagine were steamed and then peeled soaked up the flavour of the slightly sweetened mild sheen of a sauce, with added crunch from green pepper.
Billed as 'middle plate chicken' on the menu, we originally wanted to go for the big plate but were wisely warned off it by a second-timer. An enormous boat of a bowl emerged from the kitchen with the heady scent of star anise wafting after it. Lumps of chicken fell off the bone into the spiced broth. When we had fished out all the chunks of potato and chicken we could find, a plate of hand made 'belt noodles' were plonked in the bowl. Slippery, chewy, hugely satisfying and deliciously messy, I was rather surprised to find my clothes weren't splattered.
The final dish, though good, was my least favourite. Shreds of pork, carrot and more of that kelp bathed in a slightly gloopy sauce. It tasted like a very rustic version of sweet and sour, thankfully without any scary Day-Glo orange. Perhaps I was reaching full capacity at this point, though that's not to say it didn't get finished.
The meal, washed down with around 4 Tsing Taos each and complete with service, came to a mere £13 each. I felt like we were robbing them. I will be back.
Silk Road
49 Camberwell Church Street
London SE5 8TR
Tel: 020 7703 4832
Senin, 08 Maret 2010
Herb-Crusted Rack of Lamb
Having French-trimmed this rack of lamb myself at Allens of Mayfair, I decided to go for a classic recipe; minced herbs mixed with garlic, anchovies and capers. These are flavours which complement rather than over-power the flavour of the delicate, pink chops of lamb. The fat seared until crisp and the mixture pressed on top, it has enough salty components to season each juicy mouthful. I contemplated eating the whole 8-boned rack myself, until I thought about what the housemate's face might look like. Thundery and a little tearful. I just couldn't do it to her.
Roasted courgettes and a potato and onion gratin make ideal accompaniments.
Herb-Crusted Rack of Lamb
Serves 2 greedy girls - it would probably do 3 normal people
1 French-trimmed rack of lamb
1 sprig of rosemary
A small handful of flat leaf parsley
2 cloves of garlic
1 tsp capers
2 anchovies
Zest of half a lemon
1 large handful of breadcrumbs
1 heaped tablespoon of Dijon mustard
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees C. Heat some oil in a non stick pan and fry the rack of lamb, fat side down on a medium heat, for 3 - 5 minutes. Turn it over and fry for another 4 - 5 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly.
Chop the leaves of the rosemary and the parsley, and mince the garlic, anchovies and capers. Bash it around in a pestle and mortar and add the breadcrumbs and lemon zest. Brush the browned fat of the rack with the Dijon mustard liberally. Press the breadcrumb mixture onto the lamb and roast for 10 minutes for medium rare. Leave to rest for a further 15 minutes (I left it in the switched off oven with the door ajar). Carve into chops carefully to serve.
Roasted courgettes and a potato and onion gratin make ideal accompaniments.
Herb-Crusted Rack of Lamb
Serves 2 greedy girls - it would probably do 3 normal people
1 French-trimmed rack of lamb
1 sprig of rosemary
A small handful of flat leaf parsley
2 cloves of garlic
1 tsp capers
2 anchovies
Zest of half a lemon
1 large handful of breadcrumbs
1 heaped tablespoon of Dijon mustard
Preheat the oven to 250 degrees C. Heat some oil in a non stick pan and fry the rack of lamb, fat side down on a medium heat, for 3 - 5 minutes. Turn it over and fry for another 4 - 5 minutes. Set aside to cool slightly.
Chop the leaves of the rosemary and the parsley, and mince the garlic, anchovies and capers. Bash it around in a pestle and mortar and add the breadcrumbs and lemon zest. Brush the browned fat of the rack with the Dijon mustard liberally. Press the breadcrumb mixture onto the lamb and roast for 10 minutes for medium rare. Leave to rest for a further 15 minutes (I left it in the switched off oven with the door ajar). Carve into chops carefully to serve.
Minggu, 07 Maret 2010
Lemon Cupcakes with Chocolate Icing
As I've said many, many times, cupcakes always manage to put a smile on my face. They're not the best desserts in the world by any means, but these individually wrapped packs of sweetness always do the trick for me. They put anyone near them in a light, blissful, childish mood - something most of us could use more of.
I like to play around with recipes and mix and match depending on my mood of the day. These matched a lemon/chocolate type of day and the combination of both was just perfect. A tall glass of cold milk in one hand, a frosted cupcake in the other and the world is pretty much as perfect as it's ever going to be.
Lemon Cupcakes with Chocolate Icing
Makes 6 cupcakes
3/4 cups of all purpose flour
1 teaspoon of salt (use kosher)
1/2 teaspoon of baking powder
Zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/2 stick of room temperature butter
1/2 cup and 1 tablespoon of packed brown sugar
1 tablespoon of lemon curd
2 eggs
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
Chocolate Icing
Frosts 15 cupcakes
1 stick of butter
1 3/4 cups of confectioners' sugar
3 tablespoons of dark chocolate, melted and cooled
Preheat oven to 350 F. In a small bowl, mix the flour, salt, lemon zest and baking powder.
In a separate bowl, add the sugar and butter. Using a mixer, beat the sugar and butter until the mixture is homogeneous (about 3 minutes). Add the eggs, one by one, beating until just incorporated. Add the lemon juice, vanilla extract and lemon curd and beat until just incorporated. Slowly add the flour mixture. Once the mixture is just homogeneous, scoop one ice cream scoop of batter into a cupcake-lined muffin time. Bake for 15-20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cupcake comes out clean. Leave to cool on a cooling rack while you make the icing.
Melt the chocolate in a double boiler, transfer to a bowl and let cool. Cream the butter with an electric mixer. Add the confectioners' sugar little by little. Mix for 3-4 minutes until the mixture is smooth. Fold in the cooled chocolate and mix until the chocolate is entirely incorporated. Ice the cupcakes as you please. Enjoy!
The Burger
I'm a huge fan of Hawksmoor and I've posted about them twice before, so I'll keep this brief. On Valentine's Day, Hawksmoor offered up their burger at a weekend lunch - usually only available during the week. As it's nigh on impossible unless I bunk off work, I swallowed the fear of dining in a room full of snogging couples and got myself down there. Big, SO very beefy with a slightly sweetened bun, it's juices dribbled everywhere and I had to go and wash my hands afterwards.
The char-grilled squid starter, sides of chips, macaroni cheese and salad ensured we were properly stuffed. My companion threw in the towel as soon as he finished his burger, but I discovered that eating each macaroni tube one by one seemed to trick my brain into thinking I wasn't actually eating anymore. I could do nothing but pat my belly and groan for a good 2 hours afterwards.
157 Commercial Street
The char-grilled squid starter, sides of chips, macaroni cheese and salad ensured we were properly stuffed. My companion threw in the towel as soon as he finished his burger, but I discovered that eating each macaroni tube one by one seemed to trick my brain into thinking I wasn't actually eating anymore. I could do nothing but pat my belly and groan for a good 2 hours afterwards.
157 Commercial Street
London
E1 6BJ
Tel: 0207 247 7392
Kamis, 04 Maret 2010
Chocolate Fondants with Salted Caramel Sauce
I spent a few days at home with my family in Paris which is always a favorite way to catch up on anything culinary. I have difficulty finding fresh fish on a regular basis in Montreal, so Paris is always a great time to indulge. My highlights from this trip were scallop carpaccio with lime vinaigrette and simple pan fried sole fillets with lightly creamed spinach. Another favorite? Marinated salmon with pink peppercorn, pickled cucumbers and good olive oil. I also got to spend a couple hours at l'Atelier des Chefs with my mom - a new cooking class concept where you learn how to make a couple dishes with a chef and then get to taste the results as group.
The main dish was good, but the dessert was definitely an easy favorite: Chocolate Fondants with Salted Caramel Sauce. The salted caramel sauce was definitely the highlight for me. You could spoon over a less indulgent fruit salad, or over vanilla bean ice cream. It's also a great and easy way to dress up your favorite brownie recipe. The salty-sweet combination is always a winner in my book, so this was a real delight! Have you ever tried adding a little fleur de sel on top of a frothy homemade hot chocolate? If you haven't give it a try - the deep chocolate flavor just bursts through and it's absolutely delicious!
Chocolate Fondants with Salted Caramel Sauce
Serves 6
For the Fondants
200 grams of Dark Bittersweet Chocolate
20cl of milk
135 grams of egg whites
55 grams of granulated sugar
10 grams of cornstarch
40 grams of egg yolks
20 grams of unsalted butter
For the Salted Caramel Sauce
200 grams granulated sugar
40 grams of salted butter
30 cl of heavy cream
Preheat your oven to 450°F.
In a small saucepan, place the milk and bring it a high simmer. Whisk in the cornstarch until the mixture thickens. Remove from the heat and reserve. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler. Butter 6 individual-sized ramekins, sprinkle extra granulated sugar over the butter and shake off excess.
Beat the egg whites to soft peaks using a hand mixer. Add the sugar and beat until hard peaks (about 2 minutes).
Make sure the milk mixture is smooth - if it isn't, whisk to bring the mixture back to a smooth consistency. In a separate bowl, slowly mix the egg yolks with the milk (which should be lukewarm at this point) adding yolks a little bit a time to make sure the eggs don't heat too fast. Add the melted chocolate and mix until well incorporated. Add 1/3 of the egg whites and whisk to loosen the batter. Add the rest of the egg whites and very gently fold them in to not break them and keep them fluffy and airy.
Bake in the oven for 8 minutes.
Salted Caramel Sauce
While the fondants are baking, make the caramel sauce. In a saucepan, add the sugar on medium heat and let it caramelized (about 5 minutes). Be very careful and keep a constant eye on the sugar as it will start burning quickly and is extremely warm. If the sugar seems to pile up in certain areas of the saucepan, gently swirl the pan. Don't use a wooden or silicone spoon as the sugar will stick and get messy. Swirl as little as possible though, and let the caramelization happen on its own. Once the sugar just reaches a nice amber color, reduce the heat to low, and add the butter in small cubes. Be careful as the sugar might splatter. Once the butter has melted, add the cream. Taste and adjust with an extra pinch of salted to taste.
Remove the fondants from the oven and, using a small spoon poke a small hole in the center of the fondant. Add a couple spoonfuls of salted caramel sauce and serve immediately.
Selasa, 02 Maret 2010
Lazy Lunching at The Anchor & Hope
Things got off to a shaky start. I staggered over to The Anchor & Hope and asked for the table I'd booked, Sundays being the only day you can do so. The nice lady behind the bar checked her sheet and told me she didn't have me down. As she quickly offered to make me one up, I breathed a sigh of relief; there aren't many alternatives in Southwark. I ordered a bloody mary to calm the excesses of the night before and promptly threw it over the bar. "It's Sunday, it's allowed", soothed the barman as I gibbered my apologies.
Once seated, I glanced over in horror as a table of 12 seated their toddlers within flicking distance of us; this was particularly unnerving given I was dining with the sweariest man on Twitter. I hope they were too young to understand us.
The Anchor & Hope operates a set menu for Sunday lunch, one sitting at 2pm. The place was packed right out; laughter, glasses chinking and children demanding attention rang around us. Olives were huge, and radishes dipped in a suitably fishy and garlicky Anchoïde, a Provencal sauce, got us off to a good start.
Fish soup with a rouille-topped crouton and Olgeshield cheese was a monster portion. The broth was rich, dark orange and deep in flavour with the fish was cooked to tender perfection, though if I was to be picky I'd say it was slightly over-salted. This might have been due to the stark contrast of the glass of pear fizz I'd previously consumed.
Roast rare breed (Sasso) chicken was placed before us, alongside a mammoth dish of gratin Dauphinoise. The skin of the chicken was pleasingly crisp and the meat juicy and herb-spiked. Eyes boggled at the sight of the creamy discs of potato and I am sad to say it defeated us. I contemplated asking for a doggy bag but my arteries pleaded for mercy. The watercress largely went untouched for favour of more spud.
Thankfully, the Poire belle Hélène dessert was light. The poached pear, tasting slightly boozy, was enveloped in a thin layer of chocolate syrup topped with hazelnuts. It was tricky business chasing it round the bowl with the spoon provided and my companion opted to eat it with his hands, dribbling pear juice down his sleeves in the process.
Dishes cleared, espressos drank, we ordered a second bottle of wine. It got dark outside, chairs were put on tables and the staff reassured us that there was no rush. A full five hours after I'd arrived, we were the last to wobble out the door, stuffed to the gills and a little drunk. It may have started off disastrously but it ended well, and I can't think of a much finer way to spend a Sunday.
The Anchor & Hope
36 The Cut,
London, SE1 8LP
Tel: 020 7928 9898
Once seated, I glanced over in horror as a table of 12 seated their toddlers within flicking distance of us; this was particularly unnerving given I was dining with the sweariest man on Twitter. I hope they were too young to understand us.
The Anchor & Hope operates a set menu for Sunday lunch, one sitting at 2pm. The place was packed right out; laughter, glasses chinking and children demanding attention rang around us. Olives were huge, and radishes dipped in a suitably fishy and garlicky Anchoïde, a Provencal sauce, got us off to a good start.
Fish soup with a rouille-topped crouton and Olgeshield cheese was a monster portion. The broth was rich, dark orange and deep in flavour with the fish was cooked to tender perfection, though if I was to be picky I'd say it was slightly over-salted. This might have been due to the stark contrast of the glass of pear fizz I'd previously consumed.
Roast rare breed (Sasso) chicken was placed before us, alongside a mammoth dish of gratin Dauphinoise. The skin of the chicken was pleasingly crisp and the meat juicy and herb-spiked. Eyes boggled at the sight of the creamy discs of potato and I am sad to say it defeated us. I contemplated asking for a doggy bag but my arteries pleaded for mercy. The watercress largely went untouched for favour of more spud.
Thankfully, the Poire belle Hélène dessert was light. The poached pear, tasting slightly boozy, was enveloped in a thin layer of chocolate syrup topped with hazelnuts. It was tricky business chasing it round the bowl with the spoon provided and my companion opted to eat it with his hands, dribbling pear juice down his sleeves in the process.
Dishes cleared, espressos drank, we ordered a second bottle of wine. It got dark outside, chairs were put on tables and the staff reassured us that there was no rush. A full five hours after I'd arrived, we were the last to wobble out the door, stuffed to the gills and a little drunk. It may have started off disastrously but it ended well, and I can't think of a much finer way to spend a Sunday.
The Anchor & Hope
36 The Cut,
London, SE1 8LP
Tel: 020 7928 9898